Greg led me out of the Crime Lab quickly, not letting me turn around to see what was going on. "What the fuck is going on?!" I screamed.
Greg took me out to the parking lot. He hugged me. We sat there for a minute as the tears subsided and I regained normal breathing patterns. "What happened?" I asked.
"Some asshole killed Warrick", Greg answered bitterly. "They shot him."
I just sat there. It hurt. Like, physically, it hurt. "Music?" he asked.
I took his iPod. Music fixes everything. Except dead guys. Dead guys can't be fixed. Not even with duct tape.